We set out without any clear destination. Somewhere south of needing our passports, all precipitated by the simple desire to eat a hot dog. Roads were followed, state borders passed. From city to mountains to rolling hills, in observation of the living and the dead. Images from a drive through Connecticut, Rhode Island, Boston, the Sam Adams Brewery, Finger Lakes Distilling, and upstate New York, taking in everything from the grave of HP Lovecraft to Fort Ticonderoga to the House of Frankenstein Wax Museum, and plenty in between.
Hannibal is a meticulously designed show at every level, from the lighting to the presentation of the food, and of course to the clothing Mads Mikkelsen’s Hannibal Lecter wears. His choices in attire set him apart from those around him, an elite, elegantly assembled perfectionist in an era of business casual. Given how much thought is put into every aspect of the show’s presentation, it’s safe to assume that every suit and every accessory Hannibal dons possesses a thematic purpose. However, while Hannibal has been lauded for the smartness of his suiting, there is one thing about his attire that causes more controversy than his diet: the size of his tie knot.
Golgo 13 was (is) a long-running Japanese comic book aimed primarily at bitter guys in dead-end salaryman jobs who harbored daydreams of being tough-as-nails murderous sex machines but, in reality, were just nerdy guys reading a comic book on the train before they started a day full of kissing their boss’s ass and shouting out the company cheer. So, much like me, except we don’t have a company cheer that I know of. The series was created by an enterprising writer named Takao Saito, who got his big break in the business doing manga adaptations of the James Bond stories. Saito’s Bond comics were fully licensed components of the James Bond world, but they played fast and loose with the original books, often having very little to do with them other than the title and some character names (basically the same as what would happen to the movies).